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Young: Time in Peru was 'trip to Gratitude'

They were once called Third World countries, a Cold War reference of the 1950s to nations neither allied with the communists nor with the North Atlantic Treaty Organization. The nomenclature eventually shifted to “underdeveloped countries,” and went form there to the slightly more politically correct “developing countries” — which seems to imply that our own country is done developing. I am thankful it is not.

My wife and I went to Peru a few weeks back. It was more work than vacation. I don’t mean “work” in the business sense, but it wasn’t a relaxing trip. We find ourselves referring to it as our “trip to Gratitude.”

A dear friend I had grown up with was there and had invited us, offering to be our guide and translator for the week. An adventure we had always thought we might do someday was laid in our laps. We couldn’t “not” go. But I was unnerved.

“When traveling to South America, anxiety is an appropriate response,” was my friend’s reply. I’m grateful for his humor.

We did not go to Machu Picchu or any regular tourist areas. We stayed at a motel in a residential neighborhood of the capital, my friend and his Lima-born fiancé staying nearby. In ways, it was not unlike spending a week in Brooklyn, though more colorful. And I am grateful I don’t live in Brooklyn. Nobody spoke English where we were. Of course, you couldn’t drink the water or eat fresh fruit or vegetables.

I say “of course” because, in the absence of an Environmental Protection Agency or government regulation, the water is contaminated with bacteria, parasites and mining wastes. The locals don’t drink it, either. There are no apparent rules regulating restaurants or market vendors, so fresh foods washed in this water can be just as contaminated. I am very grateful for regulators.

Despite our caution, we became sick and got to experience Peruvian health care at a small clinic on one of the many city squares. It took about 10 minutes to see the doctor, the cost about $2 U.S. He checked us thoroughly, and prescribed a course of antibiotics, priced at $13. I guess that’s why more than a million U.S. citizens per year have medical procedures overseas. We laid up one day and were back exploring the city the next. Thank goodness for science and medicine. And if we had these prices, we wouldn’t even need health insurance.

Public transport was readily available and quite inexpensive, though it reminded me why I gave up carnival rides a long time ago. There seemed an absence of traffic laws. Turning lanes or double-lined highways were suggestions. Yet we never saw an accident. Personal responsibility — i.e., protecting your own vehicle — dictated the rules of the road. I guess I could improve in my own obeisance at home, being I prefer having these rules.

Seems everyone works in Peru. A teen would croon off-key on our bus then ask for donations. A man would bang his tambourine on the corner as his effort.

It appeared most people had jobs if they could afford them.

Buying talcum powder at the market required two people to help you with your choice and write a receipt, another to take payment, then another to give you the product.

Gas stations had the rites of an ancient civilization — full service. Workers in uniform would be a dance of activity around any car that stopped.

Small restaurants had greeters at the door or barkers on the sidewalk. Then, while you sat with your meal, other folks would come in off the street and try to sell you food. It was as if the social contract respected labor ahead of maximizing profits. Or a realization that in the absence of a social safety net, looking out for each other might be a good strategy. I am so thankful for our safety net. I wonder if we might someday consider labor as assets on the balance sheet.

We never saw a pawn or a gun shop. It is legal to own a gun here, but the permitting process is long and requires lengthy psychological testing. Conversely, I hear you can rent guns at certain locations. I gather that is a legal gray area that is still awaiting sense. If you just want to borrow a gun for a few hours, no mental test needed — you’re obviously focused. I am thankful we still debate this, albeit with little more sense.

This is no scholarly report nor travelogue, just some observations of a foreign land filtered through my bias. I realize there are so many things we take for granted in the United States and I give credit to the strong government we have, however malfunctioning.

Coming through customs in Atlanta, I expected a thorough search of our bags. Instead, they only asked if we brought back any fruit.

“Fruit?,” my wife asked. And before she even warmed up to the rant, they waved us through to our own country. And we were very grateful.

• Chris Young, a reforestation engineer living in Madison County, is an occasional contributor to the Athens Banner-Herald editorial page.